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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26886832">Mou Ikkai (One More Time)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Li_the_Panda/pseuds/Li_the_Panda'>Li_the_Panda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>oops my hand slipped [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mother 3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Bullying, Depression, Feels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Song: Rolling Girl, Songfic, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, dont worry too much about the major character death, it happens at the end, lots of angst because depression, oops my hand slipped</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:16:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26886832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Li_the_Panda/pseuds/Li_the_Panda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams are empty. You're never supposed to chase after them.</p><p>ORIGINALLY: One More Time</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>oops my hand slipped [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964953</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mou Ikkai (One More Time)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>my first attempt at a songfic! or a fic inspired heavily by a song and includes the lyrics, take your pick. hnnn this idea legit just came and smacked me upside the head and my hands ran away from me. constructive criticism is appreciated but pls go easy on me</p><p>i've honestly been thinking about this song a lot and how well it can fit lucas. i honestly feel a lot of depressing vocaloid songs would fit mother 3, but rolling girl hits particularly hard for some reason. the fic's based off of both the pv and the song lyrics</p><p>tw: referenced suicide, actual suicide at the end. hints of implied self-harm and suicidal ideation. the most graphic it gets is a not very descriptive image of s*it wrists but i wanted to warn y'all anyway</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucas found himself back in the music room, hands drifting listlessly across the grand piano's keyboard. He was all alone again, sitting in the room where he not-so-long-ago shattered his greatest dream.</p><p>It's always been this way, dreaming empty dreams, dreaming dreams that will never come true.</p><p>Lucas wasn't sure why he even came to the music room anymore, why he still played the old piano that's just slightly out of tune. Maybe it was to escape the churning, clamoring voices in his head, maybe it was because he just didn't know how to let go.</p><p>He couldn't even let go of his dreams, like how he couldn't let go of his mother and Claus.</p><p>He played another wrong note. Frustrated, Lucas tore the sheet music off of the stand, picked up his bag, and stormed out of the music room into the thankfully empty hallway.</p><p>"I'm fine," he mutters to no one in particular. It always worked in calming him down in the rare instances he ever felt anything more than tiny sparks of emotion.</p><p>So why did he continue to feel so horrible, like his heart had been torn out and stamped into a bloody mess on the floor? Had the words he conjured up finally failed, like everything else he ever did?</p><p>
  <em>Failure. </em>
  <em>Failure.</em>
</p><p>Lucas bolted toward the stairwell, trying to outrun the whispers and jeers from spectators that didn't even exist. He darted past the occasional student that was partaking in some after-school activity, not caring what they thought as his mind slowly spiraled into obsessing over every mistake he had made for the past four years. Images flashed in his head, images of that car running his mother over, of his brother in the bathtub with blood leaking out of slit wrists.</p><p>The world spun as he stepped through the doorway of his house, his head light from having to run all the way from school. He barely registered saying "I'm home!" as he dragged himself upstairs and collapsed on his bed, not even bothering to close the door.</p><p>The final remnants of his panic attack (Could it be called a panic attack? Lucas wasn't sure what those weird episodes were) ebbed away, emptiness and exhaustion taking their place.</p><p>Today had been just like all the other days. It was the usual: constantly being pushed around by his classmates, students and teachers alike hitting too close to home with their words, people sending off his volatile thoughts into deep, dark corners despite having good intentions. Lucas felt his eyes move on their own, falling on his desk, before screwing them shut and shaking his head.</p><p>He can keep going.</p><p>"I'll keep rolling along today," he said to himself, trying to bring life to those words.</p><p>Homework came and went in an hour, Lucas fluctuating between putting in full and half effort as usual. He only had two meltdowns today. He's fine.</p><p>
  <em>Now?</em>
</p><p>So he dismissed the voice that asked that question everyday.</p><p>Not yet. He can't see the future. Maybe everything will get better.</p><p>One more time. He can do this again.</p>
<hr/><p><em>Is this how it's going to continue? </em>a voice murmured in his head as he stared blankly out the his room's window. <em>Not being able to reach those colors in the distance?</em></p><p>Lucas's intrusive thoughts were always random, but he couldn't even begin trying to parse what his brain just came up with.</p><p>
  <em>You'll always be a failure.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>See that kid in the corner? He's crazy. Don't talk to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Heard he's the reason his brother killed himself.</em>
</p><p>The overlapping voices blend together into a cacophony of noise, sending a piercing migraine through Lucas's forehead.</p><p>"I'm fine," he mutters to himself. The pain subsides, and the voices fade into the background, but the words again fail to completely comfort him. He ignores that, placing a lid on top of all his emotions as he continues to do his homework, no longer caring whatever will happen next. He'll find something new to satisfy him for a while, leading his emotions upward before a single mistake sends it all crashing down again. It's routine at this point.</p><p>But he continues to find these new hobbies, because what else was he supposed to do with his life? What else could he do to keep everything moving, to keep himself from falling on his bed and going to sleep forever?</p><p>
  <em>Now?</em>
</p><p>Not yet. It'll all get better soon. He should be able to see something that would bring meaning back to his life.</p><p>One more time.</p>
<hr/><p>"I'll roll along again today," Lucas muttered the mantra he always said regularly throughout the day: once in the morning, once during lunchtime, once before bed. He found himself laughing today, the words getting caught in his throat as he brought his knees up to his chest. He was eating lunch, alone, on the rooftop again. No one was around to see him break down.</p><p>
  <em>How about now?</em>
</p><p>Sure. Why not? He was exhausted; they both were, him and this voice in his head. He walked to the edge of the roof, climbing onto the ledge overlooking the entire schoolyard.</p><p>He looked down, the normally dizzying height mundane and unimportant. It all made so much sense now; he was never supposed to chase after those fleeting dreams, was never supposed to look to the future.</p><p>Because he had no future.</p><p>He wasn't scared. He wasn't excited, or sad, he was just...</p><p>Empty.</p><p>Lucas Ryuka stayed on that ledge for just a little longer. Finally, he held his breath, closed his eyes, and let go.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>today has not been a good day so i decided to let off some steam by writing this</p><p>i cried several times while writing this, but it felt really cathartic so uh</p><p>me: i should finish chap 2 of fly, colors fly<br/>also me: haha rolling girl go brrr</p><p>edit: oh god i wrote this while in a mood at 9:30 pm last night and i might revise it??? this was more of a drabble i wrote for stress relief rather than a serious work so eh??? :/</p></blockquote></div></div>
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